His Last Hour
by MillicentMelodyMay08
Summary: The Doctor's last hours are upon him, but he has just enough time to make one last journey before he meets his end. "He could feel her shaking beneath his touch; the gradual slowing of her heartbeats. He had to be strong for her. He had to be strong for them both".


**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Doctor Who or any of its characters for that matter...**

**Authors note: I've wanted to upload this Doctor Who fic for a while now, but I was a bit too nervous. However, after AmyAmeliaPond12 read it, I've now decided to upload it. It's my first DW fanfiction ever, so I do hope that you like it? It's a one-shot story of how the Doctor met his end, and the final decisions he made in his last hour. It's set far, far in the future and the Doctor is supposed to be around 2000 years old. It is angsty and sad, but I promise that it has a good ending. Please take the time to read and leave a review if you would be so kind. Feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome. Enjoy :)**

* * *

**HIS LAST HOUR**

He had always known that this day was coming. He had always known that one day he would die. Time Lords were not immortal, after all; they pretended that they were untouchable, that they could withstand everything because they believed themselves to be greater than every other species in the universe. But in the end it wasn't true. Pride was their downfall; but it would never be his. No, the Doctor's fate was tied to another emotion – sentiment; the unbearable pain of loss and the will to hold onto whatever he held most dear. Sentiment was his downfall, and it always would be.

He remembered them all – each face, each name, each year; their unwavering trust. How much brighter his life had become upon knowing them – his companions. Humans lost in their meagre existence, dropping everything in order to travel with him across time and space. What_ faith_ they had had in him!

There was not enough time to see them all – to take one last glance behind so that he could know they were safe, and loved and happy. It was all that mattered to him. If only he had the time. The Doctor laughed in spite of himself. A Time Lord with no time! A ridiculous notion, but true nonetheless. The Tardis hummed with his thoughts, her energy seeping around him and giving him strength. He was so frail, so weak that it was frightening. He smiled as he felt her trying to comfort him. "Thanks, old girl".

After all this time he had never stopped speaking to her. He was always as happy as he'd first been when he'd met her; as excited as a small boy in a toy store. The Doctor settled his old, shaking hands on the console, revelling in the strength that she gave him.

"I never did say thank you, did I?" he whispered, feeling his way over the familiar buttons and knobs and other gizmos and gadgets that he had created along the way. "Not properly. You're my oldest friend. You've saved me so many times, and I never even… oh, what a fool I am!"

He paused, blinking away the threatening tears. It was not the end yet.

"So, what do you think?" he spoke suddenly, flipping a switch and lifting a lever with all his might. "Shall we go on one last trip; one last journey before the end. Just you and me, old girl?"

With a jolt he realised the full meaning of his words and he felt his jaw set in an attempt not to cry. The Doctor hardly ever cried, but today… today was his last, and he intended to make the most of it.

"One last trip…" he repeated thoughtfully. "All of time and space, all of history, all of everything! Where shall we go? What shall we do? Go on, you decide… I don't think I can…"

It would be unfair of him to choose between them, not when they had all been so good to him. Most were dead now, dead and long buried, but with time under his command what did it matter? What did any of it matter? Slumping into his favourite chair, the Doctor hid his face and let his emotions consume him. He struggled to find the words he needed to say. "Why? Why were they so good to me? Why did they follow me? In fact, why did I even allow them to come with me when I knew it would only lead to their deaths! They all left me… every single one of them… I could have saved them, I could have… Why, _why_ couldn't I save them?"

The Tardis groaned, desperately trying to find a way to console him. The Doctor shook his head wearily. "I know, I know, I'm sorry. Everyone has to die at some point".

The words tasted bitter on his tongue, strange and foreign like a disease. Some deaths he had managed to come to terms with, albeit ever so slowly, whereas others… others, like Amy and Rory's… they were still as fresh in his mind as they had ever been. Two bright stars snuffed out before their time. He would never be able to see them again: the Girl who Waited and the Last Centurion… both gone forever. And then there was Clara, dear Clara - his Impossible Girl. He had thought – or indeed he had hoped that she might have… that she would have at least… but no. No, now he was alone once more; walking towards the ends of the universe with not a soul by his side. There was nothing left, just the dark vast space of nothingness as time and space came to an end and nothing remained except for the Last Time Lord and his Tardis… the madman with his box. And now they were dying together. The Doctor patted the console softly, leaning on it for support. "It's okay, it's okay".

He could feel her shaking beneath his touch; the gradual slowing of her heartbeats. He had to be strong for her. He had to be strong for them both.

"Figured out where we're going yet?" he asked quietly as he watched the lights begin to dim around him. The lights were always the last to go out. She gave a hum that resembled something like a chuckle, and a smile tugged at his lips as he watched her change the navigation settings.

"Love you too, old girl" he whispered as they took off, not minding in the slightest that he had no idea where they were headed… on one last journey before the end.

.o.0.o.

It was a strange feeling – not having enough time. He had always supposed that he would never run out of it, but now he wished that he not taken it so much for granted. Of course, he had always tried his best, always done what was expected of him… at least most of the time. There was an adventure here, and an adventure there, but in the end he always got himself into trouble. Perhaps trouble followed him everywhere, and that was why they had all died… why he had had to leave everyone he held most dear behind, soldiering on until the world fell apart at the seams. But then no matter how much trouble he was in, he always managed to get himself out of it again and he could protect whomever it was that needed to be protected.

Protecting was far easier than saving – the Doctor wasn't quite sure he was capable of both. Saving implied that someone was forever safe from harm, or perhaps that was just a fanciful dream that his vivid imagination had concocted all those thousands of years ago. Protecting, on the other hand, gave the impression of short-term safety – a retreat from harm for a few simple moments in which someone could realise how much they were needed or loved. Yes, he much preferred the term protecting; but he could never stop his heart from yearning for the ability to save. He had managed it once before, he had indeed saved someone, a very long time ago; but too many times he had been late, too many friends he had lost…

.o.0.o.

The Tardis gave a painful groan as they landed silently, the leads and cables cracking with whatever life was left beneath his feet. The Doctor smiled; she hadn't left the parking brakes on.

"Where are we then?" he coughed roughly as he reached for his walking stick. "I promise I won't cheat and look. See, I've got my eyes closed. Surprise me".

The Tardis hummed approvingly; the doors creaked open with care. A soft light fell onto the walkway, illuminating each of his steps. She hoped he would appreciate this visit; it was the least she could do for him. Taking tentative steps, the Doctor made his way out of the Tardis. He didn't have to open his eyes to know where he was; it was all too familiar. He knew every smell, every touch, and every place in this small world within a world. Not that he minded; he was glad the Tardis had chosen here of all places. For years he had visited here, revelling in the nights he had stolen away. The Doctor smiled as he remembered, and his heart began to ache.

"Hello Sweetie".

He couldn't turn to face her, not yet. It hurt far too much.

"Didn't think you'd be back for a while".

She hadn't looked up from writing in her diary, her legs tucked neatly underneath her on her bunk as she scribbled away in that Tardis-blue book. Oh, how he'd missed her - her soft voice, her flirtatious grin, her concerned gaze. She was his everything, the only person in the entire universe to fill the gap in his soul, and to heal the cracks of his hearts. His strength was waning, but he didn't care anymore.

"Well, you know me" the Doctor replied, trying to keep the pain from lacing into his voice. "I've always got time to come and visit you".

She smiled and put down her diary, walking over to the bars of her cell and holding onto them tightly. She pressed herself into them in a futile attempt to get closer to him. His voice sounded different, but she could not yet see the face that was shrouded in the dark shadows of the hallway. Her smile quickly faded when she realised that something was wrong; something was dreadfully, dreadfully wrong.

"What is it?" she asked, the feeling of fear in the pit of her stomach quickly turning into a wild and untamed horror. "What's wrong?"

He was old, older than she'd ever seen him before. His back hunched as he turned and walked towards her, his eyes downcast as he dragged a crippled leg behind him. She didn't recognise him, and yet he was still the Doctor. Panic gripped her and she clutched at the bars in a terrified frenzy, struggling to keep her emotions in check. Sensing her unease, the Doctor reached over and placed his hand over her own. His skin felt strange against the smooth of her white knuckles, old and wrinkled, coarse from years of work and roughened over time.

"River…" he whispered.

He didn't have to say anything more; she already knew. She wished he would unlock the door with his screwdriver like he had done so many times before, that he'd let her go on one of his crazy adventures just one last time. He squeezed her hand and rested his head against the bars, mirroring her own actions. Reaching out a trembling hand, River adjusted his bow tie and gently straightened his collar. Even after all of his regenerations he still wore that bow tie, their bow tie… the bowtie that he'd used at their wedding. He smiled sadly, not daring to look up at her as she tried to comfort him in her own small way. She didn't ask any questions, didn't even flirt with him. He almost wished that she would.

Finally, he looked up and his tired gaze met her own. He felt as if his chest was going to explode, but as he gazed deep into her blue-green eyes he realised that she understood. She understood that she would see him again, but not this Doctor; this time was a first and a last for them both. Leaning forwards, he brushed his lips against her forehead, still holding her hand tightly. Would she ever know how much she meant to him? Would she realise just how many times she had saved him?

Wrapping his arms around her, the Doctor held his wife close, not caring that the bars stood as a barrier between them. He stroked her unruly hair as she snaked her arms around his neck. "You don't need to worry about me, River. I'll be alright".

"I don't want you to go" she whispered, listening to the fading beats of his hearts. The Doctor shook his head. "You'll see me soon; a different me, a younger me. You'll be out of here soon, River. I know, I know… spoilers, but I need you to know this. I don't want you to give up hope. You've got to be strong for me, River".

River laughed softly, a tone of apprehension creeping into her voice. "Aren't I always?"

"There'll come a day when I won't be able to be strong anymore, River, and you'll have to save me from myself. You've done it so many times before, and you may not have even realised it".

He knew that his time was running out, but he didn't want to leave her. He didn't want to let her go. Not again. She had stood by his side through all of time and space and had captured his soul from the very first time they'd met. Every moment he had spent with her had been maddening, exciting, and unnerving. She had discovered a side to him he had never known and she had pulled him back from the depths of his despair all too many times.

"I love you, my darling, darling River" he whispered, his voice cracking with every spoken word, and he meant it with both of his hearts. He'd lost count of all the times he'd told himself to forget, to move on. But he was stubborn. He'd never be able to let her go. She had weaved her way into his hearts; never, he feared, to be removed. A stray tear slid down his cheek and she gently wiped it away, her lips quivering in an attempt to stop herself from crying.

"I have to go now".

The words were almost too hard to say. She stumbled over her words. "Sweetie-"

She shouldn't cry, not now. He shouldn't see her like this; he shouldn't see the damage, but she needed him to know. "…you're all I have".

It breaks him. His eyes stung with burning tears as his throat closed and he couldn't bear it anymore. Pain seared through his hearts, the cracks uprooting every memory, every blissfully agonizing moment of his long, long life. River bit her lip, her brows furrowed as she watched her husband fall apart before her eyes. He cried into his hands. It hurt so much.

"Hush, sweetie, shhh… it's alright…" she whispered to him over and over again, a sob threatening to crawl up her throat, but she wouldn't allow it. He wanted her to be strong for him, and she would be strong for him now.

"Don't cry over me, River" he said as he wiped his tears away on his ragged sleeve, turning and walking away from his wife who would be free in just a few months' time. "Don't grieve for me. Be happy".

River kept her hand outstretched in silence as if begging him to come back to her, her fingers reaching for the impossible. "I'll see you soon?"

"Very soon" he smiled through his tears, holding her gaze for one last moment before stepping into the Tardis and clicking his fingers to close the doors behind him. He couldn't turn back, couldn't bear to see what he had left behind. He never did like endings.

.o.0.o.

He'd had a while to think this through, to devise some sort of scheme that would inevitably end in failure. There was no way out of it; he couldn't escape his fate. It seemed funny that he had always dreamt of dying in some battle or war saving the universe, a lone man standing amongst the people he loved most in one final fight for victory… but now, what was it all for? He had lost them all a long time ago. Dying alone though… he hadn't thought it would be like this.

.o.0.o.

There wasn't much time left, wasn't enough time to do everything he had wanted to do. Each breath was becoming strained and he could feel a dull ache beginning to emerge and spread throughout his old and tired body. The Doctor had never thought he would age like this; elderly in human appearance, old in body and mind, but nevertheless he had become wise. How many lives, how many timelines he could have altered if he had had the benefit of a little wisdom!

The Tardis groaned softly as their last journey together slowly came to an end, and all of time and space clawed at their heels. The Doctor would not be defeated by time; he knew what he had to do. Stumbling towards the red lever on the console, he lifted it to ensure that the parking brakes were not left on. She never did like it when he did that.

.o.0.o.

It all looked familiar; the clean polished floors that he had once run across, the wooden doors that opened to reveal great rooms filled with thousands of books and extravagant wonders, the staircases that reached up into the sky and down to the depths of the storerooms. It was here that he had first met her, and it was here that he would return. He could feel the calling in his heart, the will to get away, but he did not want to leave her – his beloved blue box that was bigger on the inside. Feeling his way around the console one last time he set the final destination.

"You'll see me again someday, old girl" he whispered gently. "A younger me with brown floppy hair and a silly bow tie. You'll see Clara too".

He couldn't bear sending her back there – that swirling planet of fire and dirt and a thousand losses – but it had to be done. He had tempted fate before, back in the remains of the Tardis that had become his grave, and he had won. But his grave would not be on Trenzalore. No, he would _not_ die there. Time could be rewritten, and he had decided a long time ago where his last resting place would be.

He could hear the Tardis humming the same tune that had kept him company for the majority of his life; the dying roar of the engine and the clickety-clicking of the clock all in sync and waving him goodbye. She knew what she had to do. With a last click of his fingers, the Doctor walked out of the Tardis one last time and listened as she faded away. And he smiled as she created the sound that he loved most, the sound of the parking brakes that always brought hope with them no matter where they went.

"Goodbye, old girl".

.o.0.o.

He remembered the day as if it had been yesterday and every detail, every word, every mistake had been embedded in his mind ever since. That impossible woman! He had been so intrigued, so curious that he had run away with himself and become lost in his own world of endless thoughts. How young he had been back then, how incredibly stubborn and inconsiderate, and insufferably foolish! The Doctor shook his head. He didn't want to think about that now. It hurt too much.

He found the way to the control room quite easily; meandering through the endless hallways and corridors like a king in his castle. The hanging lights shone brightly above him, a contrast to the dark shadows that had chased him the last time he had been there. The computer was the same as it had always been, and he smiled as he remembered the time he had properly saved someone. He had always wished he could save someone, keep them safe forever, and he had. He had indeed done it - just the once. Now he could save himself.

The Doctor took his beloved sonic screwdriver out of his left inside pocket, the one that his wife had given him those many years ago, and held it tightly in his hands. The end was nearing and he wasn't sure how much time he had left. Pressing the buttons with trembling fingers, the Doctor found the correct setting and inserted the sonic into the hard drive; then he prepared himself for the end. It was odd thinking about the end. He had never really supposed there to be an end, not for him. The prospect of death had never scared him. Now however, he had reason to think differently.

Closing his eyes, the Doctor rested against the panels of the enormous computer and listened to his own ragged breathing and the delayed beatings of his hearts that were no longer in sync with one another. It saddened him, and yet at the same time he wished that it was all over. No more running, no more fighting, just a madman who wanted to go home.

A blinding white flash overwhelmed his senses, and he felt himself floating away from reality. He was happy and content, listening to the words he had waited for centuries to hear:

"The Doctor has left the Library. The Doctor has been saved".

.o.0.o.

He didn't want to open his eyes, not just yet. There was still a part of him that doubted whether he had succeeded or not, wondering if his body and mind were now trapped in some sort of outer atmosphere of cyberspace, lost in a void of vast information forever. But then he felt ground beneath his feet, a soft breeze through his hair and a warm sun shining down and caressing his skin. He had made it. He felt younger; the wheeze of his chest and the roughness of his skin were gone. Briefly he wondered which embodiment of the Time Lord the computer had chosen for him, but then he realised: it would be the one that was her Doctor.

"And what sort of time do you call this?"

He smiled, and slowly opened his eyes. There she was; standing in all her beauty looking at her watch with an expression of utter bewilderment and joy written across her features. He stared at her in amazement and then he laughed. She broke into a grin and ran at him, throwing her arms around his neck as he lifted her up and span her around in the air, kissing her with every loving fibre in his body.

"Hi honey. I'm home".

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_**THE END**_


End file.
